


To Be or Not To Be. by K9

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 04:56:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim, Blair and more silliness in the name of art!<br/>This story is a sequel to Sleuth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Be or Not To Be. by K9

**Author's Note:**

> This is for all those people who complained about the ending to Sleuth, I hope this satisfies!  
> Thanks to Bast for the brave beta'ing!

## To Be or Not To Be.

by K9

Author's webpage: <http://lyrade.future.easyspace.com>

Author's disclaimer: They don't belong to me, they belong to Petfly. I didn't hurt them, at least I didn't hear them complain!  
No big tough police officer or small cute anthropologist was harmed in any way.

* * *

To Be or Not To Be...?  
By K9 

It had been almost three weeks since the event at the University that had led Blair to turn detective. He had attempted to approach Jim on the subject of their conversation of that evening several times, but the older man had always managed to side step the issue with all the grace of a ballet dancer. Blair Sandburg was a confused man. He sat on the sofa, his laptop balanced precariously on one knee and a notebook on the other. Biting nervously on a pencil, he awaited the sound of Jim's key in the door. He had come to a decision. This was it, the night that Jim Ellison sat down and discussed, like a normal human being, what he was playing at. The taunting and teasing had increased, but on the occasions that Blair had pushed him to explain himself, he'd backed off faster than a greyhound on race night. Tonight, Jim Ellison was not going to get the chance to be evasive, or devise endless excuses why he couldn't sit and talk. Blair wasn't going to give him time. He was going in for the kill as Jim walked through the door. 

<Jim, are you _really_ attracted to me? I need to know where all of this innuendo is leading? And if it's leading nowhere, I want you to stop. > Blair ran through it in his mind for possibly the thousandth time that day, <Jim. Do _you_ lie awake at night, imagining us together, with or without the chocolate ice cream? Do you fantasize about running your hands over me the way I do you? Those sensitive fingers, caressing my skin, slipping through my hair, tracing patterns across my thighs, sliding around my cock....oh God! > Blair sighed feeling his groin tighten,< Why am I the only one who has to furtively change the sheets every morning?> He pulled off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, <Yes,> he thought, <tonight is _the_ night. > Suddenly, he heard the key slip into the lock. <This is it,> he thought nervously, < Jim, are you..> The key turned. Blair's palms were sweating,<What if he says; 'No, I don't find you attractive you little pervert!' and throws me out?> he panicked, his heart began to pound, <Jim wouldn't do that,> reason spoke up, <No, but he might shoot you,> the dark thoughts added. The door swung open. 

"Hey, Chief," Jim's voice called cheerfully. 

<He's in a good mood, great,> Blair thought, he cleared his throat, "Hey, Jim. Can I ask you something?" Suddenly he glanced down. A telltale bulge in his pants caused him to gasp. He grabbed the computer, pulling it into his lap. 

"Sure. What?" Jim's voice was so close it made Blair jump, until he realized that Jim was leaning over the back of the sofa, his face only inches away from his own. 

"Oh, er..well, oh..er," the younger man's mind ceased to function as his groin took over brain control. 

"Got a problem, Chief?" Jim asked. 

"No," Blair tried not to look at his partner, "It doesn't matter." 

"Okay, I'm going to change and shower," Jim stood up straight and stretched. Suddenly he leaned back over, virtually touching Blair's face, "By the way, is that why they call that a 'hard drive'?" he sniggered. Blair flushed furiously. He could still hear the laughter as Jim walked up the stairs. 

* * *

"Mmm," Jim said, mouth half-full, "this is good," he gestured to the plate in front of him. 

"Glad you like it," Blair replied half-heartedly. He took a deep breath, "Jim?" 

"Oh, Chief, hope you're free Saturday night?" Jim said suddenly. 

Blair bit his tongue angrily, "Why?" he asked, damning himself for being so spineless, and allowing his partner to change the subject again. 

"Robert Farrington is holding a benefit at the Museum and Gallery, and he's kissed a big enough ass to get Cascade PD as security for the night." 

"How? That must be half the department's budget for the year!" Blair exclaimed. 

"Yeah, I know. He's been getting death threats. Must be an occupational hazard when you're a corrupt, thieving, scum-bag, low life, but he's demanding protection, so we get to play nurse-maid." 

"Death threats, huh?" 

"Yup," Jim said, "thought of throwing one of my own in there while I was reading through all the others, but Simon said it was probably unwise." 

Blair smiled. "You wouldn't have to sign it." 

"I know but it's that damned cross I have to put on the bottom, give's it away every time," Jim sighed, "that and the Cascade PD notepaper," he grinned. 

Blair laughed aloud. He looked up at Jim, his expression still alight with amusement. How he loved just looking at this man, reading the contours of his face. Each muscle that stretched and jumped when he smiled. Oh, that heavenly smile, the one he only ever used when he was totally relaxed and happy. And, Blair thought wishfully, he kept solely for his guide? 

"So, you okay for Saturday then?" Jim said jolting Blair from his musing. 

"Wha...Oh, yeah, no problem." 

"Good, I'll reserve us a couple of dinner suits tomorrow." Jim pushed back his chair, and taking both empty plates, stood and walked over dropping them into the dishwasher. 

"Just make sure you get the right size for me this time," Blair said, "last time I looked like a twelve year old who'd gone out in his dad's suit." 

"Yeah, yeah, I'll order the right size. 'Big and macho' size for me, and 'cute and bouncy' size for you," Jim grinned. 

Despite himself, Blair smiled, "Arrogant bastard!" he said, shaking his head, "Who else is on this detail then?" 

Still smiling from Blair's taunt, Jim replied, "Oh, Rafe, Brown, you and me, Taggert...and Simon," he gave a snigger. 

"Simon! How did they get him to give up his Saturday? I thought he was taking Daryl to the game?" 

"He was," Jim said turning to look at Blair, "orders from 'upstairs'. He is not a happy man. You want coffee?" 

"Yeah, thanks." Blair walked over and sat on the sofa. He began to recite the mantra, < Jim, are you attracted to me? Do you love me?> It was now or never. Jim was in a good mood, they'd just had a nice meal, they were both relaxed...No, make that Jim was relaxed, Blair had a knot in his stomach so big, it was threatening to reintroduce him to his dinner. Jim strolled over, handing Blair a hot cup of coffee. He took it and mumbled his thanks. Jim dropped heavily down on the other end of the sofa. He kicked off his shoes and sprawled, legs wide, shoulders slumped, as he began to flick through the TV channels. Blair watched him intently, noting his body language, the way he always seemed to dominate the situation. Everything about him screamed 'I'm in charge'. Blair on the other hand, realised that he was sitting hunched the other end of the sofa, trying to make himself look as small as possible. <Yeah,> he thought, miserably <my body language screams invertebrate!> He looked at the side of Jim's face, all hard muscle, yet wearing the softest expression. 

"Jim, I want to talk to you, about us," he said suddenly, all in one hurried sentence. 

"Mmm?" Jim said, not really paying attention. 

"Jim, are you listening to me?" he said beginning to feel angry, "JIM!" 

"What?" the older man looked at him irritably. 

"I need to talk to you. We need to get some things straight." Blair was feeling bolder by the minute. 

"Sure, Chief. What's bugging you?" Jim asked. 

"Well," Blair swallowed hard, he was losing it, he could feel Jim's eyes piercing his protective shield, "I er..I've been getting...messages. Kind of signals..." 

"You didn't put any of those funny mushrooms in that pasta did you, Chief?" Jim smiled, "because if the next sentence out of your mouth includes the word 'aliens' or 'God', you're going downtown to get your stomach pumped," he sniggered. 

"No, I did not," Blair pouted, "and I explained that..." 

"Yeah, right!" Jim's attention drifted back to the TV. 

Blair moved further along the sofa, until he sat next to his partner. <Close enough to kiss him,> he thought, his heart beginning to race. "Jim, I'm serious, I'm getting real confused with how things are going." 

"What things?" Jim asked, eyes still watching the flickering images. 

"The things with us," Blair cursed himself. He was supposed to be an educated man. He was working on _the_ definitive dissertation on Sentinels. But, could he construct a coherent sentence when talking to his best friend? Could he hell, "Our...relationship.." he continued. 

"Chief, you know more about this Sentinel/guide thing than I do," Jim sighed, still half watching the TV. 

Blair put his hand on Jim's arm, "I don't mean that," he said, desperately trying to find the right words. He found himself leaning forward,  <maybe actions would speak louder than words> he considered, all semblance of rational thought deserting him, <Maybe a kiss on that muscular jaw would bring the message home?>

Suddenly the telephone rang. Jim leaped to his feet, causing Blair to fall unceremoniously onto his face. 

"Yeah, Simon. Will do," Jim grumbled into the receiver. Blair still lay there. Jim slammed down the phone angrily, "I have to go back to the Precinct for a while, some perp I picked up earlier is squealing to see me," at that moment Jim looked around to see his roommate still face down on the sofa, "Hey, Chief. You okay?" 

"Do me a favor, Jim?" Blair's muffled voice asked. 

"Sure?" 

"Shoot me?" 

* * *

Saturday came so quickly; the younger man never had a chance to talk any further to his partner. Jim had been busy at the precinct and setting up the security details at the museum and art gallery, so Blair had hardly seen him. Often only long enough to merely indulge in pleasantries as they had passed in the doorway. Blair Sandburg was becoming one _very_ frustrated young man. 

He glanced in the mirror. At least the suit fitted this time, and with his curlss pulled back and tethered at his neck, he didn't look so bad. But, alas, still nothing like a cop. 

"This goddamned thing," Jim grumbled. 

Blair turned to see his partner fighting with a particularly malicious bow tie. "Oh, come here, " Blair sighed, slapping the Sentinels fingers away irritably. 

"I still don't see why I can't wear the clip on tie," Jim moaned. 

"Because only geeks and six year olds wear clip on bow ties, Jim, " Blair replied. 

Jim pouted, "Who exactly is going to know?" he asked. 

"Me," Blair said, "I'll know. I would walk into that place, knowing that _my_ partner, the big tough Cascade cop, was wearing a wussy bow tie. This knowledge would make me unable to hold my head up in public again. So shut up and keep still," he finished the tie and stood back to admire the scenery, "Not bad. In poor lighting, you'd pass for a human being!" he grinned. 

"Funny, Sandburg," Jim said, "You ready?" 

"Me? Yeah, all set." 

Ten minutes later, Blair still stood outside of the front door, waiting for Jim to finish his 'checks'. 

"Jim, man. We're gonna be late. Will you hurry up?" 

"Just checking the window locks," came the tense reply. 

"You know something?" Blair said, "You are getting _seriously_ neurotic about all of this. Larry went the same way, just before he _freaked_ on me," Blair's hands flew into the air as he described the downfall of his 'last' primate subject. 

Jim stepped out of the door and glared at his young partner, "Just because I'm paranoid, Chief, doesn't mean no one's out to get me!" 

"Oh, yeah. I can definitely see the trend towards the same obsessive compulsive behaviour here that Larry showed," Blair warned gravely. 

"Maybe, Sandburg," Jim said, " You should just bear this in mind- the only thing that Larry and I really have in common? Living with you!" 

* * *

When they arrived at the Museum and Art Gallery, everything was quiet. The police personnel went about their duties, sweeping the place for explosive devices, checking and rechecking doors, windows and fire escapes. After checking out the building and going through the security set up a thousand times with Simon, Blair decided he needed a break from police business. He'd decided that the lock neurosis that Jim had displayed wasn't a primate problem or even a Sentinel thing...it was a cop thing. 

The people had begun to filter through the doors. Blair stood at Jim's side. Always there should his Sentinel need him, always the watchful guide. Or, if you wanted to look at it a different way, kind of like a puppy who had been told to stay by his master's side in case he pees up the good drapes. 

<Yeah, that's how Jim sees me,> Blair thought miserably watching the cop wander away suddenly, <like an incontinent Cocker Spaniel.>

"Hello," a voice said suddenly from behind him. 

Blair turned to see a tall elegant man, around forty years old, with a hooked nose. He reminded Blair of some exotic bird of prey, sinewy, powerful and predatory. 

"Oh. Hi," Blair smiled. 

"I don't think I've seen you around here before? I'm Charles Fletcher, I have an exhibition on display tonight," he said. 

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Blair Sandburg, I'm part of the Cascade PD team," Blair said with some discomfort, as Fletcher's eyes roamed slowly down his body, taking in every detail. 

"You're a cop?" 

"No. I'm just an observer. I work with Detective Ellison," Blair said, forcing another smile. 

"Lucky him," Fletcher leered. 

"Er...it was nice meeting you, If you'll excuse me...er Detective Ellison..needs me," Blair said, trying to extricate his hand from Fletcher's talon. 

"Like I said. Lucky him," the tall man smiled, "I'll see you later? Or maybe you'd like to come see my private collection sometime?" 

Blair swallowed hard, "Maybe," he said, trying to escape into the crowd. As the other man let go his hand, he slid his long boney fingers across Blair's palm seductively, causing the repulsed young anthropologist to shudder. 

When he finally found Jim, the detective was in a huddle with Simon discussing police procedure that Blair neither wanted to know about nor cared about at this point. He just wanted to go home, with Jim, and tell him that he was in love with him. <Then get horribly murdered and spend eternity in the support column of the new freeway,> he thought, <hell, even that has to be preferable to living like this.>

Wandering back into the crowd, Blair looked around. Everything seemed very civilized. 'Nice' rich people, drinking 'nice' expensive champagne, trying to discuss art and culture that they knew nothing about, and probably never would. He had browsed the exhibits until his feet were killing him. Dipping behind the largest potted plant he had _ever_ seen, he sat down on a cane bench that encircled the giant pot. Pulling off a shoe, he winced, his toes were throbbing like hell. He could take the restraints of the suit, even the tie, but to his sneaker -softened feet, these patent leather shoes were murder. Suddenly, Blair heard familiar voices the other side of the plant. Detectives Rafe and Brown. 

"Hey, Rafe. Have you noticed that weird artist guy, Fletcher? He has a _serious_ case of the hots for Sandburg!" Brown giggled. 

"No?" Rafe gasped. 

"Yeah, like I told him, 'Man, he is the _forbidden_ zone. That guy has 'property of James Ellison' tattooed across his ass, and I for one would _not_ like to challenge that.' " 

"Whoa, me neither!" Rafe echoed the thought nervously, "I wonder if Ellison had a teddy bear when he was a kid? I read a book that said, you get _super_ possessive in adulthood if you don't have a teddy bear when you're a kid." 

"Rafe, my man, you read _way_ too much for your own good," Brown laughed, "anyway, what happens if you had a bear, but your older brother ripped off it's head in front of you?" 

"Oh, that came under, 'psychotic behavior', didn't read that far, never got to the S's!" Rafe grinned.  
Brown gave a hoot of laughter. "Hey, we'd better get back to work, before the Captain chews our ass." 

Blair still sat behind the plant pot, a stunned expression on his face.  <So, that's what they think I am,> he thought angrily, <some kind of Ellison sex toy?> he gave an ironic laugh, <and it's not even goddamned true.>

Blair decided that it was time he got back to Jim, the presentation was due to start, and if there was going to be trouble, it was going to be during that. Glancing around the room, he spotted Jim talking to a young girl. Wandering over, he caught the conversation midway through. 

"Hey, that's great, I'm very pleased for you, Monica, congratulations," Jim smiled. 

"Thanks, Jim," the pretty blonde girl beamed, openly flirting with him, "I couldn't have finished my portfolio without you." 

"My pleasure, glad I could help." 

"Hey, Jim. Wondered where you'd gone," Blair said pushing in. 

"Oh, Sandburg. This is Monica Shaw, she was an art student at Rainier," Jim said with a smile that begged Blair to rescue him. 

"Yeah, I remember you," Blair smiled, his mind going back to the art room at the University, the night he discovered Jim's big secret. 

"She's won a scholarship to study art in Paris," Jim explained. 

"Oh, wow. Congratulations!" Blair said. 

She smiled shyly at him, "Thank you," her eyes strayed back to Jim. 

<Hell,> Blair thought, <she has the same problem I do. _She_ can't get Jim's naked butt out of her mind either. >

"Well, I'm sorry I have to rush away, Monica, but I am supposed to be working," Jim said finally. 

"That's okay, it was nice to see you again." 

"Yeah, you too." 

Jim grabbed Blair's arm and led him away, toward the main gallery in the west wing of the Museum. 

"I couldn't believe it when she recognized me," Jim whispered. 

"And with your clothes on too," Blair grinned maliciously. 

"Will you keep your voice down." 

"What's it like to be famous?" Blair continued, "Did she ask you for your autograph? Or maybe a few more 'sketching' sessions?" 

"Gimme a break, " Jim sighed. 

" Detective James Ellison, Cascade PD sex symbol," Blair spread his hands wide in front of him, as if reading a headline, " they'll be asking you to do a calendar next. You know the sort, the one's where they rub you with baby oil and make you pout at the camera, " Blair began to snigger, "Just you an' your night-stick," he hooted, as his face lit up with mirth. 

"You are so damn funny, Sandburg, you're painful." 

"Today, Cascade PD, tomorrow Playgirl!" Blair erupted into giggles, drawing puzzled looks from the assembled crowd. 

"If you can't behave yourself, you're going home, " Jim hissed. 

"Okay, Dad." Blair teased. Jim shot him a stormy look. The younger man smiled apologetically, "Oh, man, I'm sorry. This is just too much fun to pass up." 

"You're supposed to be working, here," Jim grumbled, "Simon wants us to check out the main gallery before Mr, 'Charisma' gives his speech. They're unveiling the new exhibits in five minutes." 

"Okay, Jim. Sorry," Blair tried to control his giggles, sucking in deep breaths to quell the rising tide of laughter. 

* * *

The west wing gallery was an impressive place. Turn of the century architecture, tastefully renovated in the late eighties. <Nice to know they did _something_ tastefully in the eighties, > Blair thought, as he looked around. Six giant canvases were covered with heavy cotton sheets, and fitted with gold tassels for the unveiling. Blair wandered through the exhibits, breathing in the familiar scents of old books, paintings and the smell of cleaning fluid, used to gently tease the layers of grime from the ancient artifacts, that the earth and time had preserved so well. 

"Man, I love the smell of old things," he said wistfully, <Probably what attracts me to Jim,> he thought with a grin. One of the exhibits attracted his attention. An African warrior, standing, alone, looking into the distance. The sculptor had captured the sheer loneliness of a ...sentinel. Blair had to hold back from reaching out and stroking the statue, as though by touching the effigy, he could touch the real thing. 

"Everything okay, Chief?" Jim called. 

"Yeah, the shutters are on the windows, all the locks are still intact," Blair answered, taking one last look at the figure before rejoining his partner. 

The crowd was gathering for the unveiling. Jim stood with his back to the exhibits, watching the throng of people come together. Further along, Rafe was performing the same task. Brown and Simon stood at the main door, and Taggert checked the people's passes as they filed in. Farrington swept in like a monarch, granting his loyal subjects an audience. "Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome," he said pompously. 

Blair looked up at Jim's face, seeing the familiar expression brought about by the use of his highly developed senses. Jim was sweeping the crowd. 

"Our first exhibit, is from a very talented young man who is studying here in Cascade thanks to the Farrington Foundation. Miguel Sanchez's 'Cityscape'," Farrington swept the cover from the painting, the crowd applauded politely. 

Blair looked around, he could see Simon's unhappy visage in the distance, glaring at a photographer who snapped away oblivious of the angry cop nearby. The same cop who had requested that no one with equipment like cameras was to be allowed in, only to be shot down by Farrington. On the platform, Miguel was receiving his prize, a six month study trip to Italy. The young man beamed with pride. Farrington puffed out his ample chest for the official photographs. 

Blair's gaze returned to his Sentinel. Jim's clear blue eyes were still roaming the crowd. <I want those eyes to roam over me,> Blair thought desperately, <along with the hands, mouth and any other damn part capable of roaming,> he sighed, <Sandburg, what are you? Mmm? The word jellyfish leaps to mind> Blair saw Jim's eyes follow someone across the room, standing on tip-toes, he peered across the gallery. Jim was watching that pretty brunette waitress. <The bastard!> Blair thought angrily. He stepped forward to speak to his partner, 'accidentally' standing on his foot. 

"Sandburg!" Jim grunted. 

"Sorry, " Blair said giving Jim the 'someone just shot Bambi's mother' look, "Do you see anything _interesting_?" he asked, stressing the last word with a degree of venom. 

"Nope," Jim answered. 

<Liar, you just spotted a thirty eight D cup on legs,> Blair thought, with murderous intent, "Good," he said sweetly. 

Two more of the prizes had been issued by the time Blair was paying attention again. 

"This portrait is by one of Cascade's brightest young star's," Farrington announced, "Monica Shaw's 'Life Study'" As the cotton cover began to slide down the canvas, Jim's eyes found Blair's, and a look that was a disturbing mixture of horror and realization, passed between them. The gasp from the crowd, quickly followed by a thunderous applause, almost deafened Jim. Blair looked up at the painting, his mouth dropped open, and he almost lost all bodily functions. There was James Ellison, in all his naked glory, almost seven feet high and in glorious technicolour. 

Blair zoned. 

"Oh my God, who _is_ that?" a woman's voice gasped. 

"Chief?" Jim said in a harsh whisper. When his guide did not answer, he reached out and gave him a shove, "Blair!" 

Blank eyes blinked twice, Blair tried to focus on the sound of someone calling his name. It was Jim. The _real_ Jim Ellison. "W...what?" 

"Chief, tell me that's not what I think it is?" Jim said sickly. 

"Oh, man. It's _gorgeous_!" Blair exclaimed. Jim shot his friend a shocked glare. "Oh, God, I wonder if they have prints?" 

Jim grabbed his partner by the lapels, dragging him forward, pulling Blair into his face, "Will you get a _grip_ , Sandburg," he hissed, "Will...will anyone recognise it as me?" 

"The question you should be asking is, 'will I get out of here with my life'. Oh, man," Blair had developed a silly grin on his face. 

"Sandburg!" Jim released Blair's jacket, and slowly turned around. Several people in the crowd were by now pointing at the cop and whispering. Blair sniggered at the sight of his friend, partner and Sentinel, trying to slide through the cracks in the floor. 

"Hey, Jim? You never told us you had a second job?" Brown's voice broke into Jim's stupor, "Or was this a freebie? You know, working for the 'community'?" 

"Was it cold?" Rafe grinned. 

"An' is it to scale?" Brown hooted. This set Blair off in a helpless attack of the giggles. 

"Hey, Ellison, great likeness though...the face I mean," Rafe said trying to keep a straight face, but failing dismally. 

Jim still stared. 

"Oh, Jim," Blair gasped through sobs of laughter, "Don't zone on me now, man, I couldn't handle it." 

"Oh, shit," Jim said in a small voice. 

Suddenly, from behind, there was a familiar sound. "Rafe, Brown, what in God's name is going on?" Simon's voice bellowed, "Why aren't you in position?" There was a silence; "Holy shit, what is _that_?" he gasped, his deep, chesty laugh echoing through the hall, "Oh dear lord in heaven!" 

"Hey, Jim. It's not _so_ bad. It's very 'tasteful'," Blair said, choking back tears of mirth. 

"Yeah, man. It's...artistic," Brown sniggered, "Hey, Rafe. We're working with a celebrity. " 

"Is..er..is there something you want to tell me, Detective Ellison?" Simon grinned. 

Jim still stared uncontrollably at the painting, "It..it's so..big," he mumbled. 

Brown and Blair succumbed to hysterics, holding onto one another for support, while Rafe attempted to remain cool and detached. 

Simon's grin spread across his face and almost engulfed him, "What is, Jim?" he sniggered. 

"The goddamned painting, what d'you think!" Jim roared. Blair and Brown looked up together, just in time to see Jim's face turn an interesting shade of maroon. 

"Sandburg? Whatever you do to keep him calm? I'd do it now," Brown whispered. 

Blair nodded. He moved in close to his partner's side, pulling slightly on his lapel, he began to speak calmly, "Jim? Hey, come on, man. Look at me. You have to calm down, you don't want to zone here, it would be embarrassing." 

Jim suddenly looked down at him, "You mean more embarrassing than _this_?" 

"Potentially, yes," Blair said trying to reign in the smirk fighting to surface on his face.  
"That is it," Jim threw up his arms, "Rafe? Brown? Just _shoot_ me and put me out of my misery," he growled, pointing to the spot between his eyes, "Jeezus, what more can possibly happen to further humiliate me here?" 

Blair gritted his teeth, "Jim, man. Calm down!" 

Jim grabbed the hapless little anthropologist, pulling him close once more. His face was flushed and the veins in his forehead bulged and pulsated, "No. I don't want to calm down...what I'd really like to do is _kill_ something!" he snarled. 

In the background, Rafe and Brown backed off nervously, trying to blend into the wallpaper to escape detection by the angry cop, in case he should still be hungry after he'd eaten a civilian. 

Blair slapped Jim's hand away as if swatting a fly, "Will you pull yourself together," he hissed, his voice tinged with annoyance. Brown gave an involuntary 'oh', as he prepared himself for the sight of blood. "Just be cool about all of this and no one will take any notice. Man, that portrait is a _beautiful_ work of art, you should be _proud_ of it," he said forcefully. 

Jim Ellison stepped back, "Sorry, Sandburg," he said quietly, "this just threw me a little, you know?" 

"Of course I know. Now just take some deep breaths," Blair breathed deeply to demonstrate, "and think calm thoughts. Now go back to work as if nothing had happened." 

"Yeah," Jim sighed, "you're right. I over reacted," he said trying to compose himself. Suddenly he looked up at the two other cops who still stared inexorably at the interaction between Jim and his partner, "What? You two not got enough work to do?" he said with a growl. 

"Hey, we're gone," Brown held up his hands in surrender, as he and Rafe slid away. "Man, you have _got_ to admire that Sandburg!" Brown whistled. 

"Yeah," Rafe replied, "It's like watching one of those horse whisperers with a wild mustang. You know, I read a book about horse whisperers..." 

* * *

The award winners were gathering for the group photograph along with Farrington, who, for all the world looked like a benevolent school principal on prize giving night. He stood in the center of the group, his arms slung around the shoulders of Miguel Sanchez and Monica Shaw. He beamed for the camera, another slice of good publicity to balance out all those wicked rumors about his more nefarious activities. The flash-lights crashed around Jim. He turned his head away from the crowd momentarily, and saw something catch the light in Miguel's hand. Acting on pure instinct, Jim reached for his gun, just as Miguel stepped back and brought a slim knife to rest at Farrington's neck. The crowd backed off urgently. 

"Don't move, Officer," Miguel said nervously, "Or I'll kill him!" 

Jim moved forward slowly, "Don't be silly, kid. You'll never be allowed to leave this building with him." 

"I don't want to. I just want all of these wealthy and 'respectable' people to know who he is," the young man's hands visibly shook, "His corruption destroyed my village. His illegal land deals stripped our resources and bankrupt my people." 

"The boy is deranged!" Farrington blustered. 

"Shut up! See, he isn't even man enough to own up to how he really makes all of this fine money," Miguel pushed the knife a little further in. 

"Where did he get that damn knife?" Jim hissed. 

Blair, who was standing behind him, looked along the now cowering row of award students, "They gave them as prizes, Jim. It's a paper knife," he said incredulously. 

"Oh, great, we do a weapons sweep, so Farrington supplies his own," Jim whispered. 

Simon Banks stepped forward, his hands raised, "Come on, son. Put down the weapon and walk away," he said softly. Miguel looked nervously at all the guns pointed his way and shook his head. 

"The Captain's right, kid," Jim began, "Don't waste your talent and your life on this worthless piece of shit!" he gestured to Farrington, who shot him a stormy look, "You're a talented artist, who can bring such beauty to the world, don't allow his death to taint that. You don't want to be remembered for killing this jerk, when you can be remembered for creating beauty instead." 

Blair watched his Sentinel with immense pride. Hell, Jim's words would have convinced him. Miguel's face suddenly softened slightly, "Hey, cop?" he said, "You the guy in the painting?" 

Jim groaned slightly, "Yeah, kid. That's me," he said. 

"Oh, man. That painting is really awesome! You are a pretty cool guy to do that, you know?" the young man smiled. 

"Thanks, I'm glad you liked it," Jim said with a shy smile. 

"Oh, yeah. Man, I wish I had your body," Miguel gasped. 

<Hell, that's just what I was thinking,> Blair thought, <just not like you mean, kid>

"Thanks," Jim replied. 

"Man, do you work out? Of course you do. What exercise program do you use?" Miguel asked. 

"I'll tell you what," Jim said with a smile, "You put down that knife and come down here and I'll tell you all about it." 

Miguel studied Jim for a moment, before glancing sideways at Farrington. With a shove, he pushed the large man away, "You ain't worth it," he said, before handing Jim the knife. 

Jim holstered his weapon, and pulled out the handcuffs, "Sorry, kid. I have to arrest you, you do understand that don't you?" he said sadly, "But I'll see what I can do about getting a deal worked out with Mr. Charisma here. I get the feeling he doesn't exactly want his dirty washing aired in public." 

"Yeah, man. Thanks. This was _so_ stupid," Miguel shook his head, "Now what were you saying about your work-out routine?" 

Blair watched as Jim walked away, his arm around Miguel's shoulder, giving him tips on how to build up his body.  <Yeah, he gave me that lecture once,> he thought, <those exercises made me so hungry, I gained twenty pounds!>

"Well, Captain Banks," Farrington said with a degree of annoyance, "Despite allowing the danger to occur in the first place, I suppose I should be grateful to your officer for saving my life." 

"Yes, Mr. Farrington. You should," Simon growled, "Since it was you who failed to notify us that a _weapon_ was to be given as a prize, I think you should be _damned_ grateful." 

"Your officer was very rude by the way, but I suppose under the circumstances, I should let it go." 

"Well, Sir. My officer isn't a politician, just a damn good cop. And considering he just prevented a major catastrophe here, I'd say that you damn well should let it go!" Simon said barely containing his anger. 

Farrington grunted, "I hope you throw the book at that kid," he sneered. 

"If that's what you wish, Sir, certainly. Of course, we do have a problem at the moment, with these kind of grossly sensationalized stories being leaked to the press. I've ordered an internal inquiry into the matter, but you know how _difficult_ it can be to keep secrets these days?" Simon smiled. 

Farrington eyed him suspiciously, "Indeed," he said. 

* * *

Blair searched the crowd for signs of Jim. He knew that his partner had gone with Miguel to the P.D, but he'd said that he would be back as soon as he could. 

The younger man was already tired of this party. He just desperately wanted to go home and get out of these damned shoes. Sit down on the sofa with Jim, curl up in his arms and fall into those eyes never to climb out again. He noticed Fletcher the Hawk-man still hanging around, eyeing him hungrily and decided to try to get lost in the crowd. As he pushed his way through the milling people, all of whom seemed to be discussing Jim in one context or another, he suddenly spotted a familiar figure. Jim Ellison, coming on all big-eyed and wide-smiled to that thirty-eight D cup. Blair fumed,  <Just look at his body language,> he thought angrily,< he's almost screaming 'take me I'm yours'. Well, he ain't lady...he's _mine_ > he watched as Jim reached out and touched her arm and she giggled and flirted with him. "That is it!" Blair decided. He stamped across the room angrily, "Can I have a word with you, " he said eyeing the young woman dangerously. Jim's shocked expression would have made him laugh, if he hadn't felt _so_ pissed-off. He grabbed Jim by the lapel, and dragged him away, "Come with me, Romeo," 

"Romeo.. Sandburg..what the...?" Jim said with confusion. 

Blair dragged him from the room, and into the corridor. Swinging open a closet door, he shoved the older man in, following and closing the door behind him. Still reeling, Jim merely stumbled in meekly. Blair pulled on the light cord, giving the claustrophobic little room an eerie glow. 

"Sandburg, what the fu.." 

"Shut up, Jim. Just for once, shut up, and let _me_ talk." Blair ran his hand nervously over his tied back hair. This was the only outward-sign that his confidence was a sham, and merely a vehicle for his anger. He took a deep breath, " I'm tired of this cat and mouse game we've been playing for months. You tease me, taunt me, embarrass me, and you really seem to get off on it. Hell, you treat me like a...pet! Even Rafe and Brown think I'm some kind of...surrogate teddy bear!" 

Jim's face dropped a little further, utter bewilderment written across it, "Sandburg?" 

"I'm not finished," Blair growled, eyeing his partner angrily, "We get it straight, here and now, where we stand, or I'm walking." Once again, his hand nervously stroked across his hair, "I'm attracted to you, and although I'm not sure when or _how_ it happened, it did.." 

"I know," Jim said quietly. 

"..and I'm having a real hard time coping with the way I feel about you, what with the teasing and the innuendo's an.." Blair suddenly stopped, Jim's words finally sinking in, "You what?" 

"I know," Jim smiled. 

"You _know_?" Blair's blue eye's widened, "You _know_ how I feel about you?" 

"Yes." 

"Since when?" 

"Sandburg, you are many things, but subtle ain't one of 'em," Jim grinned, "I've _always_ known." 

"Then why didn't you _say_ something?" Blair ranted, "Why did you let me go on _humiliating_ myself? _How_ did you know? _When_ did you find out? How do you feel about it?" 

Jim reached out and grabbed Blair's arms, pulling him closer, he clapped one hand across the younger man's mouth, "What's with the questions, Sandburg? I thought this was supposed to be a mutual declaration of love, not an interrogation!" 

Blair slowly peeled the big hand from his face, his shocked expression made Jim smile. "A what?..Mutual..love?" he gasped breathlessly. 

"Oh, so you don't _love_ me? You're just looking for a quickie now and again?" Jim asked with mock hurt. 

"Oh, God. NO," Blair said aghast, he still held tightly onto Jim's fingers, "I do..I mean, I am.." 

"Sandburg, you're breaking my fingers," Jim winced. 

"Oh, shit. Sorry, man. Where was I?" 

"Your own world, as usual," Jim smiled lovingly. 

"Jim, I love you," Blair said. 

"I know you do, you little jerk," Jim stroked Blair's face with his fingertips, sweeping them over his lips. Suddenly, Blair launched himself at his partner with such force, that Jim was hurled backwards, cracking his head on the shelf behind. Blair's arms were flung around Jim's neck, pulling those long denied lips down to his level. 

"Jeezus, Sandburg. Calm down a little, huh?" Jim implored as he rubbed his sore head. 

"Oh, Jim," Blair breathed heavily as he made the first assault on his Sentinels lips. The older man wrapped his arms around the excitable little body, pulling him in close. Blair groaned as groins rubbed together and mouth's met hungrily. 

Coming up for air, Jim gasped, "What is this? The rutting season for anthropologists?" he laughed. 

"Oh, man. I want you so bad," Blair whispered. 

"I know," Jim stroked his face gently, "No more than I want you, believe me," he swept a stray lock of hair that had escaped from the band at the nape of Blair's neck, back off his face tenderly, "I love you, Blair," he said in a whisper. 

"Oh, God, Jim. Just shoot me now, I can die a happy man," Blair's smile illuminated the room. 

"Not until I've had my wicked way with your body, I won't!" Jim grinned. An excited giggle escaped from the smaller man, as they moved closer for another kiss. 

Suddenly, the door flew open, both men looked around in horror. 

"Simon!" they said as one. 

"What in God's name are you two _doing_ in here?" he said irritably. 

The two men looked at each other with horror. 

"He zoned, " Blair obfuscated, "and I had to drag him in here..er..to bring him out of it." 

"Oh, really?" Simon said, his eyebrows arched in disbelief, "And what do you call this 'new' method of bringing a Sentinel out of a zone out? The 'sleeping beauty' maneuver?" 

Blair flushed furiously, opening and closing his mouth silently. With a feeling of desperation, he looked around at his partner, who wore the same red faced, 'please let the floor open up and swallow me' expression. 

"Simon, I can exp..." Jim began. 

"No, don't," Simon held up his hand, effectively bringing the conversation to an end, " If you two gentlemen would just like to 'come out of the closet' and get some goddamned work done, I'd be most obliged," he sighed, pushing the door closed behind him. 

"Oh, man, that was like _so_ embarrassing," Blair gasped. 

"Tell me about it," Jim replied, "You know, Sandburg, you really should learn to control your urges." 

" _My_ urges!" Blair exclaimed, "I didn't see you doing much struggling." 

"I didn't get a chance, you came at me like a Grizzly in the mating season," Jim said with a smile. 

"Oh, and poor little you couldn't fight me off, right?" 

"Well, no. It was a pretty traumatic moment, I can tell ya," Jim said with mock horror. 

"I'm gonna show you 'traumatic' later on..." Blair said hotly, sliding his hand beneath Jim's dinner jacket, feeling the warmth seeping through the thin cotton shirt. 

"Really?" Jim grinned, "Will I need my kevlar?" 

"It _is_ kinda sexy...maybe _just_ your kevlar." 

"Oh, Sandburg. You have _such_ class," Jim smiled, sweeping the younger man up in his arms for one last kiss, "Let's go finish our job, then we can go home." 

"...For some _serious_ sex!" Blair finished the sentence with a gleeful grin. 

Jim looked down at him, an almost pained expression on his face, "What if I have a headache?" 

"I'll find you an aspirin." 

* * *

The whole embarrassing event was over, Mr. Smug Asshole was safe, the benefit was a success, Jim had been further humiliated in front of Cascade's rich and famous community, but everything was just perfect for one Blair Sandburg. 

Blair slid his hand, oh so gently across Jim's thigh, at the same time, he licked and nibbled on his partner's right earlobe. 

"Sandburg?" Jim said through a tight throat, "There are _two_ important reasons why you shouldn't be doing this right now," he took a breath, "Firstly, I'm gonna crash the truck. Secondly, we have to return these suits tomorrow, and if they have any embarrassing stains on them, *you're* taking them in!" 

"Aw, chill out, Jim," Blair grinned, "I'm just trying to discover your pleasure zones. I _so_ want to lick you all over, kiss you, bite you, touch you,..."Blair paused, "then, I want you to fuck me senseless." 

The truck swerved dangerously, as Blair's hand swept across Jim's groin. 

"Blair!" Jim yelled. 

"Nice and slow to start, then a long hard ride 'til morning," Blair whispered into the Sentinel's ear. 

"One more word, Sandburg, and you're walking home," Jim demanded, his concentration severely strained by the overwhelming scent of his guide's pheromones, threatening to zone him out at any moment. 

"So, Jim. How d'you feel about doggy style to start with?" Blair teased. 

Jim almost choked, "Sandburg, I mean it!" 

"Or across the back of the sofa?" Blair began to giggle helplessly at the expression on his partner's face, "Oh, man, you are _so_ weak, " he gasped breathlessly. 

"'Weak' huh? I'll show you weak, you little..." Jim gritted his teeth, as Blair's laughter filled the truck. "Where the hell am I going to get the energy to keep up with you?" he said under his breath. 

"I'll buy you vitamins," Blair smiled, "or oysters, or chocolate, or any other damn aphrodisiac that'll keep you going." 

"Oysters make me puke," Jim grimaced. 

"Okay, scratch the oysters," Blair thought for a moment, " Jim?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Do you like...chocolate ice cream?" 

* * *

"Sandburg?" Jim said as he turned off the trucks ignition, "Just behave yourself until we get into the apartment, okay?" 

"Come on, Jim, what do you think I am?" Blair said with an air of abject innocence. 

"Deranged?" Jim replied with a long-suffering glance in his partner's direction. Blair hooted with laughter, following his roommate- soon to be lover, into the building with a bounce. 

Jim opened the loft door quietly. Behind him Blair was pacing and bouncing on the spot, like a hyperactive three-year old, who had consumed too many additives. 

<This is it!> Blair thought, <Shit, why do I feel _so_ nervous? This should be the happiest night of my life. Why do I keep getting the urge to turn around and run? > he glanced up at Jim with envy, <look at him. The guy is not _human_ , he's so damn _calm_ > Suddenly, as if reading his thoughts, Jim turned around and smiled at him. _That_ smile, the 'Ellison charm' smile. Blair felt his knees go weak. 

"You okay, Chief?" Jim asked in a whisper. 

"Yeah, great, fine, no problem,...great," Blair winced at the sound of his babbling voice,  <I sound like a moron,> he thought painfully. But the look on Jim's face made him forget any doubts he may still of harboured. It was a look of such desire and love, that it made Blair gasp. Jim reached out and cupped the back of Blair's head with his hand, steering the younger man through the door first. 

"What's this, Jim, chivalry?" Blair asked with a grin. 

"No, Chief. I was thinking that if there's some half-crazed madman behind the door, he can hit you first," Jim smiled, entering the loft behind his partner and closing the door. 

Blair laughed out loud. Turning suddenly he pulled Jim to him, desperate to look into those pale blue eyes, drink in that warm smile. "Jim?" he said tentatively. 

"Yeah?" 

"Would you laugh if I told you something _really_ dumb?" Blair asked. 

"Why should I? It wouldn't be the first time," Jim grinned. 

"I'm serious." 

"So am I!" Jim pulled him in closer, "Okay, what?" 

"Man, I am _so_ nervous," Blair said finally. 

Jim's smile widened, "Why?" he asked. 

"I...I guess I just don't want to disappoint you," Blair said with a sad half-smile. 

"Disappoint me?" Jim's face showed complete shock, "The only way you could disappoint me tonight, is if you walk out that door." 

"Oh, Jim. You old smoothy!" Blair joked, he reached up and kissed the bigger man lightly, "Seriously, though. Don't you find all of this just a _little_ scary?" 

"Chief, I always find _you_ scary," Jim grinned, "But, yeah. This is scary. Why do you think I never said anything before? I was scared that I'd read something wrong, that _you_ couldn't possibly be in love with *me.* That if I said anything, you'd just laugh at me," Jim smiled shyly, " Still, that's old news." He pulled the young man into his arms. Reaching into Blair's neck, he released the tie that held his long curls back, allowing them to fall forward, framing his beautiful face. 

Blair frowned, "What did you do that for?" he asked. 

"I love to see your hair loose. Tying back your hair is like trying to tame you," Jim said a little awkwardly, "and I like you wild and free." 

"Oh, man!" Blair gasped as shivers ran down his spine. 

"Let's go upstairs and get out of these suits, huh?" Jim said. 

Blair watched as Jim removed his dinner suit and neatly folded it, placing it and the shirt, tie and shoes in an ordered pile. Glancing around, Blair noted where _his_ clothes were. The dinner suit had been flung across the chair, almost missing it altogether. His shirt, tie, boxers, shoes and socks were flung haphazardly into the corner. 

"Jim?" he said. 

"Yeah, Chief?" the older man replied turning to look at his soon to be lover. 

"Would you do something for me?" 

Jim grinned, "Sure, anything," he said. 

"That shirt you're folding? Throw it on the floor," Blair said seriously. 

Jim's face creased into a frown, "What?" 

Blair moved forward, he took Jim's hand in his own, "Throw it on the floor. For me?" 

"Why?" 

"Because, I'd like to see you 'wild and free' for a change. Just this once...throw it on the floor," Blair grinned. 

Jim flung the shirt in the air, and with the same movement grabbed his partner, lifting him off his feet and dropping him heavily onto the bed. 

"Wow, caveman tactics!" Blair giggled. 

"Well, it always worked for Doug McClure," Jim growled, following him down and nipping at the younger mans throat lightly. 

"I don't think he was ever the caveman, Jim. I think he might have been an anthropologist once though," Blair replied, his breath starting to come in gasps. 

"Blair?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Shut up," Jim said finally working his way up to Blair's full lips. 

"I was just making an observation, Jim. I have this weird mind that stores useless information, y'see, an' dredges it up when it's least needed..." his large blue eyes grabbed Jim's gaze 

"No, you're nervous and you're babbling," Jim smiled. 

Blair blushed furiously, "I'm sorry, man," he whispered. 

"Don't be," Jim said softly, "You're beautiful when you blush, in fact, you're just plain perfect," he covered Blair's mouth again before he could answer, probably with the theory behind the blush response in primates. 

Blair closed his eyes momentarily, sure that this was another dream and that he would open them to find himself back in his own little room, alone, with only his desperate longing for company. But, as his eyes flickered open, all he saw was the dark, desire filled gaze of the man he loved more than life itself. He felt a smile spread across his face as Jim paused in his assault on Blair's lips. 

"What?" Jim asked. 

"I love you," Blair grinned, reaching up and gently biting the end of Jim's nose. 

"Hey, what's not to love?" the bigger man replied with a cheeky grin. 

"That's definitely what I find so attractive about you, Detective Ellison, you're so damn *humble,*" Blair laughed, moving slightly to redistribute Jim's weight. 

"Am I too heavy for you?" Jim asked 

"It's okay, man," Blair smiled. Suddenly Jim rolled over bringing Blair to rest on top of him. The young man straddled the Sentinels hips 

"So," Blair said sitting astride his lover, "did these muscles just 'pop up' when you reached puberty, or did you have to work for them?" he said playfully poking a finger at Jim's biceps. 

"Is this an anthropological question?" Jim asked lazily stroking his fingers down the younger man's chest. 

"No, I'm just curious," Blair replied gently massaging the offending muscles. 

"Okay, they just popped up then," Jim grinned slyly, secretly finding his lovers nervous babbling incredibly sexy, "they weren't the only thing." 

"Mmm, interesting," Blair smiled leaning back onto Jim's thighs and conveniently raised knees, "You know Jim, you make a really comfy chair," he sighed. 

"Huh, it's okay for you. Your boney little ass is sticking in my gut!" Jim grumbled playfully. 

"What d'you mean, 'boney'?" Blair pouted," I seem to remember that you just said I was perfect." 

"That was the hormones talking, Sandburg," Jim grinned. 

"Is that so?" Blair began to wriggle. 

Jim let out a groan, "Gimme a break," he said desperately, grabbing the younger man to still his tortuous writhing. 

Blair giggled and rubbed his ass across Jim's crotch, sending Jim into spasms. 

"Blair, please. I think I'm too old for this," he pleaded. 

"Welcome to Jurassic Park," Blair teased. Running his fingers across Jim's belly lightly, he continued, "On the left we have a Tyrannosaurus Rex and on the right we have the really dangerous exhibit...a grumpy old cop," Blair grinned into Jim's face, taunting, daring. "It bites, it snaps, it growls...and on a good day it can get it up!" he dissolved into a fit of giggles. 

Suddenly Jim grabbed him, throwing him down heavily, and scrabbling on top, pinning the giggling, breathless body to the bed. "You'll pay for that, you little bastard," Jim growled, sinking his teeth into Blair's neck. This merely had the effect of causing the younger man to laugh harder. 

Blair pushed Jim back, just enough to be able to look into his clear blue eyes, "Oh, man, I think life is going to get _real_ interesting from here on in!" 

Finis 


End file.
